A Fine Romance
by Kourui1
Summary: 8 months after his mysterious and sudden separation from Weiß, Ken finds himself once again mixed up with the group he left behind, and the one he'd left it to escape from...
1. Broken

A Fine Romance  
  
Chapter One: Broken  
  
"I love you, Ken."  
  
Y. Yohji. what are you doing.?  
  
"I love you."  
  
N- No! NO! Yohji! STOP! NO!  
  
"NO!!" Ken screamed as he jerked up in his bed, panting hard, his heart hammering inside his chest. He jumped when he felt a pair of strong arms wrap around his waist, and had to fight the reflexive urge to beat the person they belonged to.  
  
"Shh. What's wrong, baby.?" Ken breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed as best he could into those arms. It was Nikolai. Not Yohji. Not Yohji. "You're shaking, love. What happened?"  
  
A shudder ran through Ken's body as he suppressed the tears that threatened at the corners of his eyes. He hadn't dreamed about it in so long. He hadn't dreamed about *him* in so long. Why now? He'd been freed from his nightmare eight months ago, when Persia accepted his submission to be transferred. He was now stationed in Okinawa, far away from the city he'd called home for all that time, far away from the ones he'd once called family. He'd left that life behind, and the memories had finally stopped plaguing him months ago. Why were they suddenly back, after all this time, after all he'd gone through to forget them?  
  
Ken was snapped out of his reverie by the feel of those arms tightening gently around him and the soft whisper in his ear.  
  
"Ken.? It was him again, wasn't it?" Ken gave a slow nod after a few moments, not yet trusting his voice for fear he would start crying. He'd spent many restless nights curled in Nikolai's arms, sobbing out his waking nightmare of a life until he was rocked to dreamless sleep. He was grateful for the darkness of sleep, when the dreams didn't come. He was tired of remembering.  
  
"Y. yes. But. why? Why is he still hurting me, Niko? It's been eight months, and he's hundreds of miles away, so why is he still hurting me?"  
  
Nikolai sighed heavily and gently rocked his lover against him. He remembered when Ken first joined him and the others of *whisper* almost a year ago. He had looked thin, too thin for an assassin and soccer player, and was very pallid, save for the dark rings under his eyes. The two of them shared living quarters, and on the very first night, he'd found his way into Ken's room where the poor boy was sobbing violently into his pillow. Since that night, and every night for months after it, he'd spent countless sleepless hours comforting the broken boy until sleep claimed them. He hadn't had to hold Ken this way in close to two months.  
  
"I don't know," Nikolai spoke in a soft whisper. "But I do know that you're safe with me. He won't ever get to you again as long as I can help it. It'll be okay, love." He leaned down and planted a tender kiss on the skin beneath his lover's jaw line, tightening his grip in a hug, both possessive and protective. The Russian only relented a bit when he finally felt Ken relax against him.  
  
"Nikolai.?" Ken turned his head slightly to look up at his boyfriend. A few strands of his normally spiky ice-blue-dyed hair hung over his face, contrasting with his vibrant, green eyes. Eyes that were staring down into his own chocolate orbs with a look of worry, contemplation, and care.  
  
"Yes?" There was a pause as Ken released a shaky breath. The images of his nightmare-memory were fading, thankfully so.  
  
"Hold me until I fall asleep.?" Nikolai smiled. He had such a beautiful smile. It was sweet, gentle, and boyish, with none of the arrogance and carnal lust that Yohji's often had. Ken slapped the thought away. He would NOT think of Yohji. Not now, not ever.  
  
"Always," came the tender reply, Nikolai's voice deep and sweet as honey. "As long as you want me, Ken, I'm yours. Don't forget that." There was no reply as Ken began dozing off in the arms of his lover. Nikolai never needed one.  
  
  
  
"Yooooooohjiiiiii!" Aya screamed up the stairs. The clock had just turned to 1:00 pm, and the tall, lanky man was still nowhere to be seen, which meant he was yet asleep. The blue-haired girl huffed and stomped up the stairs, rapping loudly at Yohji's door. "Yohji, wake uuuuup! It's your shift, and I'm not taking it for you today!" There was no answer. Aya raised her hand to hit the door again, when finally, a sign of life emitted from the room.  
  
*Crash* "Ow! Fuck!" There were some shuffling footsteps, and the door swung open. Yohji stood in the doorway, looking disoriented, exhausted, and irritated. Aya looked past him at the lamp that lay now smashed on his floor. At the sound of a loud and meaningful "a-HEM," Aya snapped up and looked at him again. "What the hell do you want? It's too early for Uncle Yohji to be up."  
  
"Well, it just so happens, 'Uncle Yohji'-" she rolled her eyes as she said this- "that it is ten minutes until your shift starts. And don't bother asking, 'cause none of us are going to pull a double for you." Yohji heaved a sigh and ran his hand through honey locks. He grumbled something at the girl and turned away, padding back into his room.  
  
"I'll be down in five," he called. Aya smiled and started to walk away, when she heard the familiar plop of a body hitting the mattress. She dashed back to the room, and confirmed her suspicions.  
  
"YOHJI!!!"  
  
"Alright! I'm going!" Yohji groused and muttered under his breath as he pulled on his usual attire of just slightly slutty clothing. Hey, it helped business, his and the shop's. Walking into the bathroom, he splashed some cold water on his face. He'd been interrupted when he least wanted to be. He'd been dreaming about Ken. It was a beautiful dream, about back when they were still happy. Back when everything in life was going right. Before he'd destroyed it all; ripped the happy ending that almost was to shreds and pissed on the remains. Back before.  
  
Even now, it was hard to think about what he'd done. Kudou Yohji would never have done anything like what happened. It wasn't for days he realized just what had transpired that night. God, that night.  
  
The blonde assassin slapped himself hard across the face, pushing out unwanted images and memories. He didn't want to think about it. He never did. But he couldn't stop. He relived that night over and over again in his head, until he wanted to die, only to fall asleep and be tortured by dreams of past happiness, just to live through it again the next day. It was his punishment. It was the only way he could convince himself that he was paying for what he'd done.  
  
Enough of that, though. Time to put on a happy face. Gotta keep the customers happy, even if it means killing myself from the inside out for it. Small price to pay, Kudou, small price to pay for your crimes. It could be worse.  
  
How? How the fuck could it be worse than this? I'm in Hell. I'm living in a nightmare. HOW CAN IT GET WORSE?!  
  
Trust me. No matter how bad, it can always be worse.  
  
Yohji sighed. He was losing an argument to himself. That was bad. He picked up his sunglasses, sliding them into his hair, and made his reluctant way downstairs.  
  
"It lives!" Omi called out, humor lacing his voice. "I was surprised to see Aya-chan come back from having to get you up unscathed. You're getting better, Yohji." The older man frowned playfully at his comrade.  
  
"You're mean, kiddo. You'll learn someday that real men don't get up until dusk." Omi rolled his eyes and wiped his soil-covered hands on his apron.  
  
"Yeah right, Yohji. You're just lazy. Go get me the peat moss and help me with this pepperonia, will you?" With a great, over-exaggerated sigh, the labeled playboy complied. He had to admit somewhere in his mind that being around these guys helped him. Omi was the only other person, besides Ken and himself, that knew what had happened to drive Ken into another team. He'd expected the kid to hate him, to call him horrible names and get him thrown out of Weiß, but it turned out quite the opposite. Omi had been nothing but supportive and as helpful as he could be. The only reason Yohji hadn't left or even killed himself was because of Omi. After things calmed down, the two had grown together beyond description. They were as close as brothers. Almost as close as he and Ken had been.  
  
After all, it had been Omi who broke into Yohji's room and wrestled the knife out of Yohji's hand. It had been Omi who stayed by his side and forced him to explain why he was trying to commit suicide, and who talked him into calmness after he'd realized that he had honest-to-God raped Ken. He owed the young assassin his life.  
  
"Yohji! You in there?" He blinked and turned, looking at his addresser. Wide blue orbs stared expectantly up at him, then down at their project, which was overflowing with the soil. Yohji jerked the bag up, bits of moss flying behind him, littering the floor.  
  
"Shit." Yohji set the bag down and went about trying to clean up the mess. Omi immediately squatted down on the floor by his side.  
  
"Spill it. Something's on your mind." There was a moment of silence.  
  
"It's nothing." Omi reached out and grabbed his friend's hand tightly. The kid was getting a pretty good grip.  
  
"Bull. Don't lie to me. If now's not a good time, then I'll wait for you, but you are going to talk to me, Yohji. Nothing has changed. Remember that." The young assassin rose to his feet and was about to walk away for the broom, when Yohji's voice stopped him.  
  
"I had a dream about Ken." Omi turned. Yohji was still on the floor, his head bowed in a defeated manner, something he usually saved for when he was alone, but never when a customer could see him. Luckily, the shop was devoid of people, save for the two of them. "It was our three month anniversary. He was smiling. He- he looked so happy, Omi. He used to be, before I." Thin, wiry arms slid around Yohji's shoulders, and Omi hugged him tightly.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Yohji." He pulled back almost reluctantly. He constantly worried about Yohji, and for months would sneak into his room to check in on the older man on a nightly basis. He'd tried to be there ever since the whole thing went down, and offered whatever he could to keep his friend from a mental breakdown. It wasn't easy, especially since Yohji was still plagued by dreams of Asuka occasionally, and then he had this to deal with as well. "I'm sorry."  
  
After a long minute or two, Yohji sniffed and drew a deep breath, pulling himself upright. The usual cocky grin was plastered mechanically onto his face, but his eyes showed through to the feelings burrowing inside him.  
  
"Let's get this mess cleaned up, okay, Omi?" Yohji turned and disappeared into the back storage area, Omi staring after him.  
  
"Anything you say. Yohji."  
  
  
  
  
  
Author's note: Blah. Okay, that sucked. My creativity is at an all-time low, so I really just needed to pump something out to get the juices flowing. I'm planning on continuing this, or course, and I will regardless of anything. I need it. However, posting the rest of it will depend on how many people tell me how crappy it was or not. Um. yeah. Can you tell I'm feeling dejected? YAY! Leave a comment, even if it's just to tell me to go to hell or something. I'm such a feedback whore. ^^()  
  
Kourui Kurenai.  
  
PS. ff.net is being bitchy and keeps formatting my story this way. Sorry for the confusion I'm sure you encountered while trying to read this. Once I figure out how to bitch-slap the network into submission or whatever, life will be much easier. 


	2. Places

A Fine Romance  
  
Places  
  
Yohji was exhausted. Physically, mentally, and spiritually dead. It had been a typically busy day at the shop, and topped with memories of his dream and his little mental breakdown earlier, all he really wanted to do was curl up in bed and swallow all his Trazadone¹ in one fell swoop. But he knew he wouldn't- he couldn't. Omi would never allow it. The kid was just too damn loyal. And, of course, right as they had been closing, who should walk up to the door of the shop? Yohji had seen her coming. After all, he could recognize her legs anywhere, especially with her habit of wearing socks with high heels. Go figure. And now, Manx was standing in front of them, babbling on about some mission or another. It made him wonder why he didn't just close the door and run in the first place.  
  
"Balinese!" Yohji snapped up to attention. "Are you paying attention?" Yohji gave her a slow wink almost completely on reflex.  
  
"'Course I am. I was staring at you the whole time, wasn't I?" Witty, Kudou. Nice comeback. He smiled to himself as Manx rolled her eyes.  
  
"This is important. Members of Kritiker have been showing up dead. We've had three reported fatalities, and none of them were merciful. Normally, this is a scenario in which we would be taking care of this ourselves, but circumstances require we keep a low profile of ourselves. Hopefully, that will make our murderer's job a bit harder. It has been decided that discretion is best, and that is why we're calling upon our... task forces."  
  
"You mean your grunge-workers." Ran was scowling as he spoke.  
  
"I mean small-time names in Kritiker. First off, you'll be less known and recognizable, which may help save your lives in the long run. Second off, yes. We need people to do the dirty work. You've been doing it for years without complaint, why start now?"  
  
Ran opened his mouth, then closed it again, still scowling, but opting for silence rather than argument. Manx nodded.  
  
"You will be going to Okinawa, where the last victim was found. There, you will cooperate and work with another of our groups stationed there. Bombay, here is the file containing their personal information. It is your job, working in association with this group, to find out who is behind the murders and take him down."  
  
"I dunno... it sounds really sketchy," Yohji drawled. Manx turned to him with a scowl, the first expression of anger he'd ever seen from her.  
  
"This is not negotiable. You will accept this mission, as your employment and very lives depend on it. Good luck, Weiß." Everyone in the room simply watched in surprise as Manx turned and walked out of the basement, fluffy red hair bouncing behind her.  
  
"Wow," Omi breathed. "She's serious about this. I better take a look at that file," he pondered aloud, picking up the folder and disappearing from the room. Ran looked to Yohji, who remained seated impassively on the sofa.  
  
"Go get packed," the redheaded leader ordered. "We're leaving tomorrow."  
  
  
  
"Ken-chan! Wake up!" A groan sounded from the reluctant waking soccer player as Neko's voice resounded up the stairs. It was a Saturday, for crying out loud! He wanted to sleep in! The door to his room opened, and Ken let out a defeated sigh.  
  
"All right, all right, I'm getting up. Happy, Neko?"  
  
"I'm sure she's not as happy as I am." Ken sat up and jerked around at the voice, a smile immediately alighting his features. Nikolai stepped into the room and slid the door shut behind him. "Good morning."  
  
"It is now," Ken replied, scooting over to offer his boyfriend a seat, which was taken gratefully.  
  
"What did you dream about?" Nikolai asked, snaking his arms around the smaller boy. He took a second to plant a gentle kiss at Ken's temple.  
  
"I dreamed about you. And a nice, romantic walk, just the two of us..." He smiled jovially at his lover, tenderly brushing strands of ice- blue hair away from his face. Nikolai chuckled.  
  
"Could it have been a premonition?" An exaggerated shudder went through the soccer player.  
  
"That would make me Brad Crawford." The Russian mimicked the shiver, hints of a grin still on his lips. Quiet, light-hearted chuckles filtered throughout the room, leaving the two staring at one another as the sounds faded.  
  
"I love you," Nikolai whispered, leaning in and pressing his forehead to Ken's. Ken tilted his neck slightly and smiled.  
  
"I love you, too." Their lips pressed together then opened, tongues delicately rubbing against one another. The click of a shutter and the burst of light from a flash brought the two apart, both looking to the doorway where Neko stood, camera in hand, looking entirely too pleased with herself.  
  
"That is SO cute!"  
  
"I hate you, Neko." The green-haired girl smiled sweetly at Nikolai, who was frowning playfully at her. Ken poked his lover in the side, eliciting a squeal from the older boy.  
  
"He doesn't mean it. We all love you, Neko-chan."  
  
"You'd better," she said as she tucked the camera away into one of the many pockets of her jeans. "I made breakfast. Hayato is already downstairs, so I suggest you hurry up before he eats everything." She gave the two a thumb's-up before turning and disappearing down the stairs. Nikolai looked to Ken.  
  
"You wanna get dressed?" Ken shrugged.  
  
"Seems like a good idea."  
  
"Can I watch?"  
  
"Sure." Nikolai grinned widely.  
  
"Can I help?" Ken's face returned the grin.  
  
"Of course."  
  
An hour later, Ken and Nikolai descended from the upstairs region and wandered into the kitchen. Neko was standing right in front of the fridge, a mock frown on her face. She was tapping her foot impatiently and trying her best to look annoyed at the two.  
  
"Thank you for taking your sweet time getting down here. Next time, though, I suggest you spend more time putting on clothes instead of taking them off." Nikolai gave her a grin.  
  
"You're just jealous you couldn't get a picture of Ken's sweet ass." He gave Ken's butt a squeeze, and Ken's face turned seven shades of red.  
  
"NIKO!" The Russian burst out laughing, and a very flustered Ken turned away from him. A very loud 'ahem' pulled the focus back onto Neko, who, Ken observed, had a manila folder in her hand. The room fell silent, an air of seriousness filling the space, making itself almost tangible. They all knew what the file folder meant.  
  
"What's the mission?" Ken asked.  
  
"Members of Kritiker are showing up dead. Another group will be joining us to investigate and track down the person or persons responsible," Neko explained.  
  
"What is the other group...?" Ken felt a wrench in his guts, anticipating and fearing what was going to be said next.  
  
"I don't know. Birman said that the other group would come to us. Since this is where the last member of Kritiker was found dead, she couldn't allow too much information to be risked, so all I have is the basic information. Feel free to read through the files." She set the folder on the counter and walked past the two boys. She turned upon reaching the doorway. "By the way, Hayato finished off all of my pancakes, so you can fend for yourselves."  
  
Ken cast a nervous look at the folder and picked it up. He jumped a little when he felt a hand touch his shoulder. Niko's eyes caught and held his own, reflecting his frightened expression.  
  
"It'll be okay, Ken. It'll be okay."  
  
  
  
Omigod... Omifuckinggod. This is not going to be good...  
  
Omi stared out the window of the car, blankly gazing at the blurred landscape flying by. He was too consumed with his thoughts to see anything. Had he not been in such excellent shape, he would have had a heart attack the previous night. While reading through the personal files of the group they were on the way to meet, who's picture and info should he come across but Ken's. He hadn't the heart to tell Yohji. Now, it was only inevitable. He couldn't help wondering how the meeting would go, if both of them would find a way to duck out of the mission, or if they would actually get along like old times... The latter didn't seem very likely.  
  
They were almost there. In less than half an hour, Weiß would be in Okinawa. This was definitely not a good thing.  
  
"You're being awfully quiet, kiddo," Yohji drawled from the front seat. "Nervous?" Omi blinked and looked at the clock again. 28 minutes...  
  
"I haven't been nervous about missions in years, Yohji. I'm just kinda tired," he lied. "I stayed up all night going through the files and what little information we have." At least that part of it was true. He neglected to tell anyone that most of that time spent 'reviewing' had been reading up on Ken.  
  
"If you say so. You know where to go to find this other group once we get into town?" Omi looked at the clock again. 27 minutes. He silently begged the clock to slow down or stop, anything to keep them from getting to Okinawa. Several seconds passed. Nothing happened.  
  
Stupid Powers-That-Be...  
  
"Yeah," the blonde sighed. "I've got the location. Any more questions?" Yohji fell silent. Ran snorted softly behind the wheel, which thankfully meant that there was going to be no more talking. Omi returned his eyes to the landscape, seeping back into his thoughts. Something bad was going to happen, he could feel it in his bones. Great.  
  
Before Omi even realized it, he felt the car pulling to a stop. He blinked and looked around at the colourful buildings and more colourful people bustling about their daily lives. They were there...  
  
"Where now?" Ran asked. His voice was tired and just slightly irritable, lacking even the icy edge it usually had. He'd been driving for hours, so it was understandable.  
  
"Go straight," Omi instructed. "Turn here. Take a left... and... Stop!" The car jerked to a halt in front of a restaurant labeled 'Bertucci's'. Yohji raised an eyebrow behind low-riding sunglasses.  
  
"You sure about this, bishounen?" Omi frowned at the pet name the older assassin often used on him.  
  
"Yes, *Yo-tan*, I'm sure," he sniped back. "The girl who owns the restaurant is named Neko Arisugawa. She's the one we're looking for."  
  
"Let's go." Ran pulled the key out of the ignition and got out of the car, stretching his legs out gratefully. Yohji and Omi followed suit, and they headed inside.  
  
  
  
The door jingled, and Neko let out a soft sigh. She took a second to damn herself for not putting up a sign for her break and stood to greet her customers. She walked to the front of her restaurant and gave a swift once- over of the three standing before her. A beautiful redhead in a god-awful orange sweater, a kid who didn't look a day over 15, and a tall, lanky man who looked like he'd just crawled out of some seedy dive in the downtown area. But, business was business. She pasted a smile on her face and brushed forest-coloured bangs behind her ears.  
  
"Hi! How are you?"  
  
"Arisugawa-san?" Neko blinked at the boy, caught a bit off guard that he knew her name. He stepped forward, his large eyes fixed on her.  
  
"That's me..." The boy reached inside of his jacket and pulled the tip of a manila folder from his vest wordlessly. A moment of silence followed before Neko turned, her dark green hair swishing softly behind her.  
  
"Follow me." She pulled a key out of her pocket and locked the door, switching the sign over before she proceeded toward the back area, not glancing back to see if the others were following her. Halfway through the walkthrough, she stopped and pressed her hand against the wall. Giving a gentle push, the trapdoor swung open, revealing a set of stairs. The quartet walked down them, the light growing dimmer as they descended. At last, they were inside a room that much resembled the basement to the flower shop. Omi minutely wondered if all Kritiker-based assassin HQ's had rooms like this. He had but a moment to ponder this before the girl whipped around, a gun in each hand, trained on the assassins.  
  
"Don't move," she hissed. "You do everything I say, or I'll blow all your pretty little heads off. Take your weapons and put them on the floor." Weiß hesitated a moment, but Ran made the first move, pulling the short sword he'd concealed in the waistband of his pants out, dropping it with a clatter to the ground. Yohji followed, dropping his watch beside himself. Omi reached into his vest and pulled out an arsenal of needles and darts, setting them down beside the other felled weapons. "Good. Now stand perfectly still. I see any of you move, all of you die.  
  
"Who sent you?"  
  
"Persia," Ran answered. Neko hesitated.  
  
"Prove it." Omi reached inside of his vest, and Neko instantly had one of her guns aimed at his head. "Slowly..." Omi swallowed and pulled the folder out, holding it in front of him. Neko pondered for a second, then replaced one gun to her apron, reaching forward with her free hand to retrieve the file. She stepped back and lowered her eyes to look at its contents. Yohji stooped down to get his watch when a bullet bounced right by his hand on the floor. He jumped and straightened again.  
  
"That was a warning, boy. Next one goes into your brain." Weiß fell stone still as Neko's eyes ran over the words in the file rapidly. After what seemed like minutes, she lowered her gun and put it down.  
  
"Sorry about that, but one can never be too careful, especially with what's going on right now. Do forgive me." Her tone of voice had softened to its usual sweet nature. "You can pick your stuff up now. I won't hurt you." She smiled a bit at herself. "Welcome to Bertucci's. You guys want a pizza or something?"  
  
  
  
Ken sighed lightly, his eyes fixed to the ground as he walked along the emptying street. A tender squeeze of his hand brought his attention upward, his eyes falling on the tall Russian walking beside him.  
  
"What's wrong, love?" Nikolai asked. "You've been sighing all day. This walk was your idea, but if you'd rather not be here, I can take you home or wherever you want to be." Ken shook his head.  
  
"No, it's not that, Niko... I'm just... glad to be here with you." Nikolai slowed to a stop, Ken stopping with him. Those intensely green eyes were sparkling in the dying light, his lips turned upward in a smile.  
  
"I love you so much, Ken-chan." Without warning, he stooped down and pressed those lips to Ken's own, tightening his grip on his lover's hand. Ken melted and leaned against Nikolai's strong frame. Yohji had never allowed public displays, wouldn't even hold his hand let alone kiss him right in the middle of the street. Goddamn it, there he was again! Ever since news of the other group coming to work in collaboration with Wispern, Ken couldn't get Yohji out of his mind. There was no guarantee that it would be Weiß, but something told Ken it was. Even wrapped in the arms of someone who loved him, who would never let hurt him, would never let anyone else hurt him, thoughts of his former lover seeped in. Ken stepped back from the kiss and could feel Nikolai's reluctance in letting him go.  
  
"We should head back," Ken murmured. "Neko-chan will worry about us." Ken started to turn when Nikolai gently pulled him back and turned him around.  
  
"Neko knows we're out together. She won't worry. Please tell me what's bothering you, Ken. I want to help..." The brunette opened his mouth to speak when a shrill ring interrupted him. Nikolai groaned and reached into his pocket, producing his phone.  
  
"What? Neko?? Hold on, I can't hear you..." He pulled the phone away and cast Ken a regretful look. "Go ahead back to the restaurant, babe. I'll meet up with you in a second." He turned away. "Neko? Hold on... Okay, that's better. What's going on?"  
  
Ken sighed in frustration and raked a hand through messy chocolate locks. He shoved his hands into his pockets and plodded away from his blue- haired boyfriend back towards Bertucci's, where he knew Neko would be. Blank thoughts followed him most of the way back until he rounded the final corner and saw a tall figure standing by the door of the restaurant, a cigarette in his hand. The figure turned, and Ken sucked in a sharp breath, his heart skipping a beat in shock. The figure had seen him as well, for he, too, froze, cigarette falling out of that familiar mouth, rolling forgotten on the sidewalk. For a minute, neither moved, spoke, or barely breathed. It wasn't until the figure straightened that Ken found his voice.  
  
".........Yohji........."  
  
  
  
  
  
Author's Note: Blarg. I found a way to cheat ff.net, but it's still not quite perfect. Much thanks to those of you who have left comments thus far. It truly is because of you that this second chapter is going up. I hope you liked it as much as you liked Ch. 1. I have no idea what I'm going to do for the next chapter, so those of you genuinely interested in reading this story, be patient. I'll try to make it worth your while.  
  
-Kourui Kurenai- 


	3. Reunion

A Fine Romance  
  
Reunion  
  
".........Yohji........." Ken couldn't move. He wanted to scream, to run, to do anything but stand there staring at the phantom from his past. But he couldn't. His expression must have looked much like Yohji's: shocked, apprehensive, transfixed. He wondered minutely if his eyes held the same edge of fear as those jade orbs he was staring into. Yohji finally broke the standoff by taking a small step forward, a hand reaching tentatively outward.  
  
"Ken... God, Ken, I can't believe it..." Those fingertips brushed against the baby soft skin of Ken's cheek, and the soccer player burst to life. He slapped the hand away and landed a solid punch across Yohji's face. The older man bowed under the force of the blow, his sunglasses flying off. The sound of a lens cracking was nearly missed by the two suddenly panting men. Yohji lifted his head a bit, staring at Ken behind wide, startled eyes. Ken was breathing hard, his fist still balled. He no longer looked angry, just... scared.  
  
"Ken, sweetheart, you still out-" Nikolai's sentence dropped dead in his throat at the scene displayed before him. Slowly, he approached his boyfriend and slid his hands down those tense, wiry arms. "What the hell's going on.?" He gave the drawn back man a twice-over and his eyes narrowed. "You must be Yohji..." Those jaded malachite eyes looked helplessly at Ken. "I... I..."  
  
"Yohji-kun! Ran-kun says to finish up your cigarette and get your ass back inside or he's gonna-" Omi stopped short as soon as he turned the corner. He glanced quickly over the scenario. Yohji's glasses cracked on the ground, his head to the side, Ken's fist balled up and the Russian guy he'd read about with his arms around Ken. Things did not look good. All eyes were now on Omi, who was taking turns staring at Yohji, then Ken, then Yohji again.  
  
"Omittchi..." Ken breathed. The younger assassin finally moved from the spot he'd been rooted to, to where Ken and the Russian stood.  
  
"Ken-kun... Go on into the restaurant. Neko-kun and Ran-kun are waiting for you." Numbly and with a bit of encouragement from Nikolai, Ken disappeared around the corner into the pizzeria. Omi took a tentative step towards Yohji. "Are you... okay...?" He immediately smacked himself mentally for that one. The man Yohji loved just socked him in the face and retreated into someone else's arms. He was obviously bnot/b okay. Omi started to reach out when Yohji stood straight and took a step back. He retrieved his broken glasses and shoved them into a pocket.  
  
"Let's go," he nearly whispered. Omi hesitated a moment, casting a glance back at the blue-haired Russian whose eyes were narrowed at the tall blonde before he turned to catch up to his teammate. A sinking feeling seeped into the young computer whiz as he walked silently on.  
  
iThis is not going to be easy.../i  
  
Ken pulled the door to Bertucci's open and stepped tentatively inside. Neko and Ran were seated quietly at a table towards the back of the restaurant. The two looked up at the same time, and Ran graced his former comrade a small smile.  
  
"Hello, Ken. It's been a while." Ken nodded and forced a smile in return, still shaken by his encounter. He slid into a seat beside his astonished leader.  
  
"You two know each other?" Ken nodded again.  
  
"Yes. Weiß is the group I was in before I came to you." Neko pouted cutely, trying to look dejected and only succeeding in looking adorable.  
  
"You never told me that..."  
  
"I wasn't allowed to. You know the rules and all that." Neko shrugged her concession and brushed a wayward lock of green hair from her face.  
  
"Well, that makes it that much easier if at least one of us knows who we're working with, right Ken?" The brunette didn't answer. "Um... I guess we'll just wait for the others to-" The door opened again, Omi and Yohji stepping inside, closely followed by Nikolai, still sporting a murderously unhappy expression. "Never mind. Hey guys. Have a seat. We'll go downstairs to talk in a minute." Omi quirked an eyebrow and pulled out a seat next to Neko, Yohji coming to sit beside him. Nikolai pulled his chair close to Ken and took his hand possessively.  
  
"Who are we waiting for, Neko-kun?" Omi asked.  
  
"Hayato," she responded flatly. "I swear, I'm going to staple-gun a clock to that boy one of these days. I don't think he's ever been on time for anything."  
  
"He's always on time for a meal," Ken mumbled. Nikolai abandoned his scowl and sniggered ever so lightly at the comment. "'s true..." With that, the door burst open, and a young boy about Omi's age came skidding to a stop in front of the table. His face was flushed, his body bent, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Locks of sleek black hair fell forward across his face until he stood, brushing them back. He looked sheepishly to Neko, intensely red eyes silently begging forgiveness.  
  
"I'm sooooo sorry, Neko-chan, I was going to try and be early getting back, but I got distracted and before I knew it, I was late and I really, really didn't mean it and it'll never happen again, please oh please don't be mad at me, I'm sorry!!" Omi, ken and Niko were all trying to hide amused smiles, while Ran and Neko frowned at the tardy member. Yohji stared at the boy blankly.  
  
"And what exactly was it that you got distracted by, Hayato.. ?" Neko asked slyly. The Japanese boy blushed darkly, ducking his head.  
  
"Er... Well, y'see... Um... There was this guy at the shop..." Neko groaned and raised a hand, signaling for the explanation to stop.  
  
"It's always 'some guy' with you. I swear, you drive me crazy sometimes... Whatever. Lock the door and come downstairs," Neko ordered. She stood, the others at the table following her as she led them to the basement conference room. Omi and Yohji lingered outside of the hidden door when the others had disappeared.  
  
"Are you going to be okay with all this, Yohji...? I can't image what it must be like..." There was a moment of silence, and Yohji finally answered.  
  
"I have to be. The question is, will Ken be okay? My being here is really going to interfere. Maybe I should just talk to Manx and find a way out of this..."  
  
"No!" Yohji's eyes widened, meeting Omi's. The kid had that look, and the blonde couldn't tell if this was a good thing or not. "You can't just run away! Ken's been running for eight months. You two have to work this out, or neither of you will ever heal!"  
  
"...Omi..." The boy hesitated and shifted awkwardly.  
  
"Sorry... But you two have to talk about it sooner or later. I'm not gonna let either of you duck out of this mission. People are dying, Yohji. Remember that." The lanky assassin paused before turning and retreating into the darkness of the basement. Omi sighed. What the hell was he getting everyone into? Suddenly, he jumped, ripped out of his thoughts by the feel of a hand on his shoulder. He whirled around, grabbing the hand and pulling its owner into a captive position.  
  
"Whoa! Hey! It's just me!" The blonde blinked and instantly let go of Hayato, backing up a step.  
  
"Sorry. Reflex." The raven-haired boy grinned. Those bizarre crimson eyes glanced over Omi's body appreciatively, and he winked slowly at him.  
  
"It's all right. You've got a good grip, there..." With that, he brushed past the slightly astonished member of Weiß and down the stairs. Omi blinked. iThis is definitely going to be interesting.../i  
  
  
  
"Okay. So far, we have no information, no leads, no nothing. We're working with air, here." Neko paused her speech, continuing pacing across the basement, her heels clicking lightly on the stone floor beneath her. "All we know right now is the only two possibilities are that this person is either a target who lived. or someone working us from the inside. I don't like that idea much, 'cause that's going to make this whole situation a lot more dangerous for everyone here.  
  
"So far as I understand it, Omi is a computer whiz, so I'm teaming you up with Hayato. I want you two to go through the Kritiker database and search for any and all 'unsolved' cases. I want names, boys. I want the names of targets, family, their friggin' Ipets/I if they had 'em. We'll start there.  
  
"Ran, you and I will arrange a meeting with Manx to discuss... the other possibility with her. With any luck, we may even get a few minutes of Persia's time for inquiries." Neko halted her pacing and took a deep breath, sighing it out. Ken cast a nervous glance up to Nikolai, who had him in a protective hold.  
  
"Neko-chan," the Russian began. "Um... what about the rest of us...?" Ken's eyes strayed for but a moment to the other side of the room, where Yohji was looking sidelong at him with dejected jade eyes. The brunette tore his vision away from the forlorn look on his ex-lovers face and buried himself in Niko's embrace.  
  
"The rest of you will suit up."  
  
"Awwww! They get to go do field work?!" Hayato whined. Neko graced him with a wide grin, shaking her head.  
  
"Not quite. Hey, we've still got a restaurant to run." She tossed Yohji an apron, which he absently caught and stared blankly at. "Congrats. You got a new job." Hayato snickered into his hand, ignoring the quick glare Niko flashed at him. He reached down, grabbing Omi's arm.  
  
"C'mon, kiddo. I'll show you around. Hey, after I've given you the tour, we can go back to my room and-"  
  
"A-Ibhem/I/b..." The raven-haired boy laughed nervously under his leader's scrutinizing, disapproving stare.  
  
"Work! Geez, that's what I was gonna say! You're so dirty, Neko." Omi blushed, and Neko rolled her eyes, brushing past the two to the stairs. "I don't have a one-track mind... sometimes," Hayato quipped with a chortle as the three disappeared into the restaurant above. Yohji stared for a few moments at Ken and Nikolai on the couch, the entire room wrapped in silence.  
  
"...Ken-"  
  
"Don't you dare speak to him," Nikolai cut in. Unwrapping his arms from the young brunette, he stood and took a step forward. "You don't have the right to even be in his presence, but unfortunately fate has decided to play a cruel joke and bring you here. We're stuck working with you, Kudou, but don't you dare think for a second that just because you and your team is helping us that anything is going to go away or be forgotten. And don't you dare think that I'm going to let you anywhere near Ken. I'll never give you the chance to hurt him again." Yohji jerked to his feet, stray pieces of flaxen hair flying over burning green eyes.  
  
"Don't Iyou/I dare speak to me like that. You don't know me. You don't know anything." The Russian stepped forward threateningly, his eyes boring into Yohji's almost close enough to touch.  
  
"That's where you're wrong, dog. I know everything. Tread carefully, Kudou, for you walk on dangerous ground." With that, he spun around and walked over to the couch, taking Ken by the hand and leading him to the exit of the basement. As the two reached the stairs, Ken took a glance behind, his coffee-coloured orbs casting one last look at Yohji before they faded into the shadows. A whisper sounded in the basement, and Yohji blinked, wondering if it was his imagination or Ken's voice that had just uttered those two words.  
  
"I'm sorry..."  
  
  
  
Author's Note: Wow, I'm sorry this took so long. A lot of stuff has been happening and has kept me perpetually away from my computer to type this up. Another thing is the fact that it has been so long since I have even taken a glance at this story I've lost my feel for the characters, the setting, even the direction of the story line. If the next chapter or two that come out seem a little off, I apologize beforehand for letting this happen. I'm usually really good about finishing what I start! I'm sorry!!! Look for the next chapter. I hope to have it out by the new-year.  
  
-Kourui Kurenai 


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